Head Out On The Highway
by wearing-tearing
Summary: [TFTIU #8] "It seems like you two never sent your kid off to college before."


**a/n: **here we are! once again! after a break in october because uni is not my friend ): beta-d by foreverblue-navy and title from _born to be wild_ by steppenwolf, like always.

* * *

"You got everything?"

"Yeah, Papa," Noah says, rolling his eyes.

"Are you sure?" Stiles asks, biting on his bottom lip. "Do you think you have everything you need? Clean sheets? Enough sweaters? Quarters? Wait," Stiles says, sticking his hand into his pockets. "I'm sure I have some here, I can leave them with you. And did you bring your pillow? You know you can't sleep without your pi—"

"_Dad_," Noah huffs. "I told you I'm _fine_. And I have everything. You made a list and made me triple check it before we left, remember?"

"He does," Derek says, lips curling up a little. "We know you'll be fine."

"We just worry," Stiles mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

Derek nods at that, because it's true. They're just different kinds of worriers, with Stiles being restless and having to check everything is good to go about five times before he convinces himself everything is okay. Derek usually worries in silence, mouth tight and brows furrowed.

Kind of like right now.

"I'm going to be okay, _jeez_," Noah says. "It seems like you two never sent your kid off to college before."

"Just because we've been through this with Tony and Charlie doesn't make it easier," Stiles says, coming up to Noah and hugging him close. "You're our baby."

Derek has to agree with Stiles. Having gone through this when Tony and Charlie got accepted to college doesn't make it any easier to say goodbye to Noah. It's harder, in part, because now it means that when they go back home it'll be to an empty house.

Nevermind that Tony and Charlie come back to visit whenever they can, filled with stories about college and their majors and all the new friends they made.

They twins are starting their final year at college. Tony is studying linguistics, while Charlie is majoring in molecular and cell biology.

"_Dad_," Noah whines, but lets Stiles squeeze him some more.

"What your dad means is, we're going to miss you," Derek says, reaching a hand out so he can run his fingers through Noah's hair.

"I'll miss you guys, too," Noah murmurs. "But I'll be home with laundry whenever I can."

"Ugh, _no_," Stiles says, letting go of him. "I'm not washing your dirty socks. You can do that by yourself like every other college student."

Noah sighs. "It was worth a try."

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Stiles asks, cupping Noah's face between his hands and smushing his cheeks together.

Noah makes a face at him. "Yes, dad. I promise. And I'll call if I get homesick."

"Or he can just come finds us," Tony points out, leaning against the doorway. "We're all going to the same college anyway."

"Yes," Charlie says from behind him, eyes glinting. "I can even paint your nails when you're taking a nap if it'll make you feel better."

"I'll pass," Noah says dryly.

"You'll call us," Derek tells him, and then points a finger at Tony and Charlie. "And you'll take care of him."

"Yes, sir," Tony and Charlie says in unison, saluting him.

Derek raises an eyebrow at them. All of his kids act so much like Stiles sometimes he wonders if they have any Hale in them at all.

"I don't need to be taken care of," Noah grumbles.

"You know that's not what Papa means," Charlie shakes her head at him. "He knows you can handle yourself."

"He just wants us to have your back when you can't," Tony says, coming up to Noah and throwing an arm over his shoulder. "And that we can do."

"I guess that's okay," Noah concedes.

"Yup," Tony nods, and then turns to Derek and Stiles. "I'll make sure he won't drive drunk anywhere or blow up the engineering building."

"_Tony_," Noah hisses, poking his brother in the ribs.

"And _I'll_ make sure neither of them do anything stupid," Charlie says.

Derek and Stiles share a look, because they know what these three can get up to when left to their own devices. It's been three months and Derek is still trying to wash purple play-doh off the garage door.

"We'll be _okay_, oh my god," Noah says, exasperated. "I swear you guys weren't this bad when Tony and Charlie started college."

"That's because you're the problem child," Tony teases, sticking a finger in Noah's ear.

Noah elbows him in the stomach and turns, and Derek gets a hand on his shoulder and pulls him back before he can tackle Tony to the floor.

"None of that," Derek says firmly. "I don't want to end this day having to drive you two to the emergency room."

"Sorry, Papa," Noah and Tony mumble.

"Dude, guess what? They guys in the next room are throwing a party as soon as the parents leave. They even have be— Oh shit."

"Smooth," Noah whispers, before slipping from under Derek's hand and going to his friend. "Hey, Billy."

Noah and Billy have been friends since they could walk, first bonding over their habit of trying to eat anything they could get their hands on and later over their mutual love for anything space related and video games.

"Uh, hi," Billy says, eyes wide. "Hey, guys."

Tony and Charlie wave at him.

Stiles presses his lips together not to laugh and tilts his chin. "Hi, Billy."

And Derek just puts on his best _I'm disappointed in you_ face on, crosses his arms over his chest, and says, "I hope you weren't going to finish that sentence with the word _beer_."

"No," Billy says, shaking his head. "No, no. No at all, Mr. H. I was going to say _bean bags_. They even have _bean bags_ in their room. So when we go over there to their party we won't have to stand around all night. We could sit down, relax, rest our legs. Because of the bean bags."

Billy being friends with Noah since they could walk also means that Derek and Stiles have known him since he was a toddler. And _that_ means they can tell when he's lying. Not that Billy is very good at that, in the first place.

Derek blinks. "Billy."

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm glad you want to major in Astrophysics."

Billy smiles wide at that. "Me too, sir. I don't think I would have done very well at Law school. Arguing is not my thing."

"Right," Derek says flatly. "Arguing."

"Well, anyways," Noah says loudly, clapping his hands. "You guys should probably head out. I don't want you driving when it's dark because we all know Papa's eyesight isn't the same anymore."

"Hey," Derek protests, scowling.

The movement makes his black-framed glasses slide a little bit down his nose, as if proving Noah's point.

And that's a new development.

He now has to wear glasses.

He had to get them about two years ago, when he hit his late _late_ fifties. He'd be getting headaches whenever he had to read something with small letters, which ranged from garage paperwork to books to the newspaper in the morning.

He still remembers the first time he tried them on after getting them. Not only because he found himself being able to read things without having to squint and forcing his sight, but also because of the heated look on Stiles's face when he saw them.

"You're right," Stiles says, lips turning down. "We should probably get going."

Derek slides a hand up and down Stiles's back, soothing. "If you remember you forgot anything, call us and we'll drive back tomorrow."

"I will," Noah says, eyes going from Derek to Stiles and back again. "You're not going to cry, are you?"

"No," Derek says, shaking his head.

"Dad?" Noah asks hesitantly.

"I'll be fine," Stiles says, voice cracking.

Derek lets out a deep breath, pulling Stiles close to his side.

He remembers when they did this for Tony and Charlie, how Stiles was close to tears the entire time they helped the twins set up their dorm rooms. It took until they got back to their house in Beacon Hills for Stiles to start crying, but it only took Derek and Noah cuddle with him on the couch and watch tv for him to feel a bit better.

This time, Derek thinks that's not going to cut it.

"Come on," Tony says, going to Stiles's other side and throwing an arm around his shoulder. "Group hug. Noah, you're in the middle."

"Ugh," Noah groans, but he's still fast to get to them.

He slams against Stiles and Derek, wrapping his arms around them. Charlie settles on Derek's side, her hair tickling his chin, one of her hands tangling through Noah's hair. Even Billy joins in, getting behind Noah and snaking his arms around Noah's waist.

"I'll come visit at least once a month," Noah promises, voice muffled against Stiles's shirt. "And I'll call whenever I can. And we can do Skype dates like we did with Tony and Charlie."

"You better," Stiles sniffs, twisting his head to he can place a kiss to Noah's forehead. "We'll miss you, buddy."

"Me too, dad."

"We love you," Derek says, squeezing the back of Noah's neck.

"Love you guys, too."

They stay like that for a minute longer, until Tony's stomach starts rumbling and breaks the comfortable silence they're in.

"Okay," Derek says, pulling back. "You guys have plans for dinner?"

"Yeah, Papa," Charlie nods, smiling a little. "Jamie's going to come pick us up and takes out to eat."

Derek smiles softly at his daughter. She and Jamie have been dating for around five years, which might as well be forever for them. They've had some bumps along the way, but since Jamie moved to be closer to Charlie while she attended college, they've been going strong.

Scott and Stiles are already planning their wedding.

Allison and Derek are just hoping they don't decide to elope and get married in Vegas to escape all of that.

"We'll get going, then," Derek says, grabbing Stiles's hand in his and tangling their fingers together.

Stiles grips his hand tight, leaning his weight against Derek's side. "We'll see you soon, okay bud?"

"Yeah, dad," Noah says, and then grunts when Stiles lets go of Derek and swoops him into another hug.

That happens at least three more times before Derek finally manages to drag Stiles away, holding his securely to his side with an arm around Stiles's waist. Noah waves them goodbye, Charlie and Tony standing by his side with their arms around his shoulders.

And Derek and Stiles wave back, hearts heavy, leaving part of their family behind.

* * *

"Can we ride?"

Derek looks up at Stiles, taking in the sad set of his mouth, the lines around his eyes, the grey on his temples. He looks old and tired in a way Derek hasn't seen in a long time, but he figured something like that was going to happen after they got back from driving Noah.

So he doesn't hesitate to say, "Sure," knowing they both need the comfort riding Derek's bike brings them.

Derek helps Stiles into his jacket, pulling at the lapels and bringing Stiles closer so he can kiss him.

"We'll be okay," Derek tells him, rubbing their noses together.

"I know," Stiles sighs. "Just sucks having this big ol' house with only the two of us in it."

Derek hums, brushing their lips together one more time. "C'mon."

Derek still maintains that one of his favorite feelings in the world is having Stiles behind him when they're on his bike, Stiles's arms tight around his waist and his thighs cradling Derek's hips. It's been almost thirty years, and having Stiles this close to him while they ride through Beacon Hills still makes his stomach flip, just like the first time they did this.

He takes them around for a couple of hours, mostly through the highest spots in Beacon Hills where they can look down at the town and see all the houses and buildings alight. He knows Stiles likes the view, remembers the first time Stiles told him about how gazing down at the lights.

It helps, he thinks, if judging by the way he can feel Stiles relax against his back the longer they ride.

* * *

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah," Stiles says, shimming out of his jeans and kicking them off. "Thanks for taking me."

"Anything you need," Derek says, placing his glasses on his nightstand before coming up behind Stiles and kissing the back of his neck.

"Love you, baby." Stiles turns his head, brushing his lips against Derek's stubble.

Derek smiles, eyes crinkling at the corner, and takes Stiles's lips in a sweet kiss, licking his way into Stiles's mouth.

"Love you too, Bunny," Derek murmurs, hands sliding down under Stiles's shirt so he can touch skin. "C'mon, I'll take care of you."

Stiles melts against him, nuzzling Derek's cheek. "You always do."

Derek kisses him again, soft and quick, and guides Stiles to their bed, never once taking his hands off of him.

They undress slowly, unhurried. It takes a little coaxing for both of them to get hard, and Derek takes his time exploring Stiles's body, with Derek pressing his mouth to every inch of Stiles he can reach.

They've done this enough times Derek doesn't need to stop and ask Stiles what he wants. He knows by the way Stiles tries to pull him closer and the little hurt sounds Stiles makes in the back of his throat exactly what that is.

And by that he means Stiles under him, hard and flushed, his legs spread so Derek can settle between them. It means Derek sucking marks into Stiles's skin as he fingers Stiles open, slow and careful. It means them moving together after Derek finally pushes inside of Stiles, taking each other apart, Derek swallowing Stiles's gasps and moans with his mouth as he moves.

"_Derek_," Stiles whimpers, fucking himself back into Derek's dick, his nails digging into Derek's back.

"I've got you," Derek tells him, mouthing at his jaw, teeth raking over Stiles's pulse point. "I've got you, Bunny. It's okay."

"Please," Stiles whispers, turning his head, trying to find Derek's lips.

Derek shushes him, sliding one hand down Stiles's chest, nails flicking Stiles's nipples. Stiles gasps, red mouth falling open as he arches his back into Derek's touch.

Derek kisses him when his hand closes around Stiles's cock, licks his way into Stiles's mouth, chases the taste of him as he jerks Stiles off. He nips and kisses at Stiles's lips as he thrusts, murmurs soft words against Stiles's skin, presses their bodies tight together as he brings them both closer and closer to the edge.

Stiles comes with Derek's name on his tongue, mouth smushed against Derek's cheek, his fingers gripping Derek's hair tight as he clenches around Derek's dick. And Derek follows soon after, overwhelmed by the feeling of Stiles hot and tight surrounding him.

Stiles kisses him after Derek catches his breath, arms going around his neck, mouth hot and sweet and slick. And Derek lets him, knowing Stiles needs it, knowing he needs to make sure Derek's here and he's not going anywhere.

So much so that when Derek moves, dick slipping out of Stiles's ass, Stiles tightens his hold around Derek's neck.

"No," Stiles mumbles. "Stay."

"You sure?" Derek asks, rubbing their cheeks together. "We're covered in come."

"I like that," Stiles tells him. "Makes me feel like I'm yours."

"The wedding band on your left finger does the same thing," Derek says. "So do the bruises on your neck, chest, and hips. _And_ so do the nail marks on my back and ass."

"Oh _that_," Stiles sighs, smiling smugly.

"So we don't need dried come gluing us together to let you know that."

"Ugh, _fine," _Stiles huffs, annoyed. "Get up, get us cleaned up, and then get back on top of me again. But just so you know, I'm not going to help you."

"You just like to make a mess, huh?" Derek asks, all fondness.

Stiles winks. "That's my favorite part."

Derek snorts, placing a quick kiss to Stiles's swollen lips before getting up.

Stiles does absolutely nothing to help while Derek cleans the come off of them, just watches him from half-lidded eyes. He also doesn't wait for Derek to get back into bed by himself, instead snatching Derek's wrist and pulling him down.

"Cuddle me," Stiles says, moving around until Derek's on his back and he's lying by Derek's side, one of his legs thrown over Derek's hips and his arm over Derek's waist.

Derek rolls his eyes but pulls Stiles closer, rubbing his chin against the top of Stiles's head.

"They'll come back, you know," Derek says after a while, running his fingers up and down Stiles's naked back.

"I know," Stiles mumbles. "But not to our house. They'll have their own place and we won't see them everyday anymore."

"You see your dad everyday," Derek points out, grunting when Stiles slaps him in the stomach.

"You know it's not the same," Stiles says. "And we still have four years of Noah being away before he comes back. _If_ he doesn't decide to keep studying or finds a job some place else, far away from us."

"He'll still come back for Thanksgiving," Derek points out. "And Christmas. And all of our birthdays, summer barbecues, and Easter Egg Runs."

"He better," Stiles sniffs. "Tony and Charlie too."

"They will," Derek answers. "We raised good kids."

"We did, didn't we?" Stiles says softly.

"Yes."

"Good," Stiles says, cuddling closer. "I feel so old all of a sudden."

"Sudden?" Derek chuckles. "I thought the grey hair clued you in."

"Hey," Stiles protests, lifting his head so he can glare at Derek. "I'll have you know I _rock_ the grey hair, okay? I'm a _smokin'_ fifty-five year old dude."

"Oh, yeah," Derek deadpans. "_Smokin'_."

"At least I'm not _sixty_," Stiles snaps.

Derek shrugs. "Men in my family age well, I'm not worried."

Stiles sticks his tongue out at him. "You suck."

"I can, if you can get hard again."

Stiles's scrunches his nose up at him, and Derek can't help but steal a quick kiss.

"You think you're so funny," Stiles grumbles.

"That's why you married me," Derek says. "My _charm_."

"Shut up," Stiles says, tugging at Derek's chest hair.

Derek hisses, grabbing Stiles's wrist and hauling him down on top of him. And Stiles goes, almost knocking his chin into Derek's nose.

"I thought someone wanted to cuddle," Derek says, shifting on the bed until he has his limbs wrapped around Stiles's, effectively pinning him in place.

"I also want our kids back," Stiles complains. "Can you imagine what it'll be like, us in this house all alone?"

"We've done that before, though, before the kids were born."

"Well, yeah, but not for very long," Stiles replies. "And we've had the kids for like, over twenty years. That's gonna be a change. And you know I don't handle silence very well."

"You lived alone for years before we moved in together," Derek says, holding Stiles tight.

"And all of my friends had keys to my place."

"They still do," Derek argues.

"Just—," Stiles cutts of, frustrated. "When Tony and Charlie left, we still had Noah. So it wasn't all horrible. But now it's just us again."

"Yup," Derek says, refusing to acknowledge the way his heart clenches in his chest. Because he might miss his kids but he knows it's important they let them go live their lives. "Just us."

"What are we going to do?" Stiles asks, voice small.

"Well," Derek says slowly, nuzzling Stiles's cheek. "I was thinking more of what we did today."

He has to bite back a smile at the way Stiles goes still, fingers spasming around Derek's arm.

"Oh?" Stiles asks, failing not to sound interested.

"Yes," Derek says, placing butterfly kisses over the side of Stiles's face. "We're going to have the house to ourselves for the next four years, bar the time whenever the kids decide to visit us."

"So during the summer and a few weekends throughout the school year," Stiles answers.

"Exactly," Derek nods, grinning. "The rest of the time it'll be just us. We haven't had the house to ourselves for that long since the twins were born."

"That was a really long time ago."

"So we have a lot of making up to do," Derek adds, letting Stiles go only so Stiles can turn on his side, putting them both face to face.

"_That's_ the reason I married you," Stiles says, eyes glinting. "You always have the _best_ ideas."

"True," Derek says, still grinning.

You know, until Stiles says, "Better than mine about having another baby."

Then he just groans, _"Stiles_."

"What?" Stiles asks, all mock-innocence. "It's a sound idea."

"No, it isn't," Derek says, leaning in and swallowing Stiles's protests with his mouth. "We're too old to be raising a kid."

"Speak for yourself," Stiles sniffs.

Derek pulls back, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, okay. Maybe you're right and that's not a good idea," Stiles says quietly. "But yours has merit."

"Think we can go for round two?" Derek asks, sliding one of his hands down so he can cup Stiles's ass.

"Yeah," Stiles breathes out. "Just give me another fifteen minutes."

Derek does.

And he also shows Stiles just how much he can suck.

* * *

**a/n: only one more to go! to be posted sometime near christmas or after christmas but definitely before new years! and then it'll be the end!** are you crying? because i am.


End file.
